


Little Known Facts

by nicholas_de_vilance



Series: Yes, Your Majesty [2]
Category: Alice (2009)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 00:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1919091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicholas_de_vilance/pseuds/nicholas_de_vilance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlotta met Hatter on a roof top, one of the highest points in the city.  She talked him down that day, and the rest, as they say, is history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Known Facts

A little known fact about the city of Wonderland is that there actually is a top. The buildings don’t just go up and up on into forever; at about three hundred stories give or take twenty ground levels, one can climb out onto the very top of it all and see the entire world. Or, you can look down, the way Hatter was that night. Wind-chilled and teary-eyed, the Hatter stood stiff as a board on the edge of the tallest building that he could find. His arms were sore from the climb and he feel like the entire world was stabbing him in the back. Almost angrily, but with every ounce of despair his heart could handle, he glared down…and down, and down until he could just see the blackness below.

            It was his monthly appointment with the Queen, though he honestly couldn’t say why she called it “monthly.” Usually, she just sent her suits out to collect him at any random time she pleased no matter how busy or…preoccupied he might have been. Mad March himself came today, dragged Hatter away kicking and screaming with a knife against his throat from his parents’ funeral. He didn’t really care how damn strange it had looked, someone like him having a complete emotional breakdown without any tea-influence whatsoever. That was a special occasion. Even Queen Bitch couldn’t pull him away from the very last time he would get to see his mum and dad…except that she could and she did. After it was her pompous, fat-ass, insane commands that had gotten them killed in the first place, no less.

            A little known fact about Hatter: he loved his parents more than he loved himself. They were so awesome and determined, if a bit sloppy. That whole resistance business would have worked fine if Dad had just kept his mouth shut about it. Then, they would still be alive…to see Hatter continue to spit on their every belief by selling the staple to the empire they meant to overthrow.

            He hated this. Every single aspect of this godforsaken empire could take a draft of arsenic-laced ecstasy for all he would bother to aid it…except he does, every day. He sells the goddamned teas and runs the house—in fact, according to Her Bitch’ness he’s the best in the business. The thought isn’t very comforting. On the contrary, it kind of makes him want to just jump and get it over with. As a tear fell from one eye, he stepped forward until just the edge of his heel was left on the platform, the rest of his boot hanging precariously over nothingness.

            Never before had he felt so alone. He was still trying to come to grips with having such a heartache without being able to go home to his mother and have her make him hot tea and cookies. He already missed learning all those tricks from his father. Even his hat didn’t feel the same. What he needed right at that moment was a hug…or a long drop with a short, bloody, broken stop.

            “You aren’t really going to do it, are you?” came a voice from behind him.

            Without turning around, he knew who it was. He had never had the pleasure of a face-to-face, but a woman as feisty, strong, beautiful and uninhibited as Carlotta St. Delaware quickly made a reputation in the sort of circles that Hatter frequented. She also managed to distract him with her absolute overpowering femininity. “What do you mean?” he demanded, trying to hide the waver in his tone. He couldn’t let go of his control, no one could see him like this. The whole display at the funeral—which Carlotta had attended as well—was bad enough without exacerbating things. “Just enjoying the view.”

            Suddenly, she was right behind him, quiet footsteps lost on the breeze. She put a hand on his shoulder and held rather firmly, the heat of her touch sending shivers over his skin. “I think you’ll find the view even more breathtaking if you actually lift your head and look at it.” Slim, warm fingers slid under his jaw in a soft caress, tilting his head back so that he was now looking out into the last rays of the sunset. “See?”

            That was when the fear set in; the absolute terror at what he had just been about to do. No doubt Carlotta wasn’t nearly as affected by the situation. It was a little known fact that Hatter always tended to feel things more intensely than normal people, and he really tried to keep it that way. A deep sigh of relief forced its way out of his chest and mingled with the pink and gold hues surrounding him. What the hell was he thinking? Before he knew it, tears were falling freely down his face and he just barely managed not to make any of those embarrassing whimper/sob noises. “Yes, thank you,” he muttered politely, only monumentally aware that she was still touching him.

            “I see you around the shop,” she said conversationally. “I must say that you don’t escape my attention. Would be a shame to lose you before I had a chance to _talk_.” The way her hand slid down his chest from his shoulder said that she didn’t really mean to talk. Hatter was pretty sure he was alright with that.

            It occurred to Hatter that she was in the perfect position and that all it would take from her was one good shove and he’d be airborne. For a long moment, he mused that if she did, he wouldn’t have to worry about doing it himself. Then, he remembered that he was being an idiot. Killing himself wasn’t the answer any more than having himself killed was. He turned around quickly, spinning so that he remained tucked in the loop of her arms. There were still tears streaming down his cheeks and he was trembling a bit from the cold and the fear, but maintaining his badass, cold bossman image was rendered fairly moot at this point. Now, he just wanted her to wrap him up and make all of the pain go away.

            “And what would we talk about?” he asked, voice still quite soft and tight.

            “Just the proper things,” she assured him with a sultry smirk that said she meant _nothing_ proper.  “News, weather, teas. You would invite me to supper at yours and then show me how you use that _strong_ right hand that I hear so much about.”

            He looked at her, lost in the depth of her blue, blue eyes and the power of her wide, enticing grin. The whole scenario was ridiculous and probably more than a little dangerous. Based on recent events, he would willingly believe that he wasn’t allowed to have any sort of personal relationship—friends, family… _other_. How was he to know if the Queen wouldn’t kill Carlotta off just for speaking to him? Then again, that could have been his nerves talking; and it would be _so_ good to get rid of _those_ for a while. What better way? And why couldn’t he indulge for once in his life? This seemed like as good a time as any to want to make himself feel better.

            “Would you like to join me for supper?” he asked, finally managing to straighten and make his voice stop sounding like broken glass being scraped across a tea tray.

            “And much more, I hope.” Taking his hand, she back-stepped a ways to lead him slowly away from the edge of the roof with a coy, very pleased smile decorated her face. It was a little known fact that Hatter lost his virginity that night.


End file.
